


Goodnight My Angel

by superbaturalross



Series: Sabriel Week [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Gabriel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Destiel, Bottom Gabriel, Bottom Gabriel/Top Sam Winchester, Bottom Sam Winchester, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Dean, Omega Sam, Top Gabriel (Supernatural), Top Gabriel/Bottom Sam Winchester, Top Sam Winchester, post major character death, sabriel week day 2: ABO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superbaturalross/pseuds/superbaturalross
Summary: Sometimes the end of a chapter can begin a new one, or Sam finds that even in the ashes of tragedy after tragedy, hope can bloom again.





	1. Only The Good Die Young

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own :D 
> 
> Notes: Based on a prompt from the Sam Needs Gabriel server! Link to the server [here](https://samneedsgabriel.tumblr.com/post/183826364108/archangelt-rickster-join-our-sabriel-discord)
> 
> Prompt: The Gabriel of the normal universe is dead, however, his apocalypse universe self isn’t and he wants answers about what could be so important another him would give his life for.
> 
> Written for Day 2 of Sabriel Week: ABO

_ He left Heaven so long ago. All the fighting. Michael this, Lucifer that, he just wanted it to be over. But not like this.  _

_ As he walks the charred remains of the land, decimated by his brothers and sisters, he’s filled with anger--guilt. A desire to punish. But what he’s not prepared for is the image of his own demise, an image of himself, lying on the ground, charred wings grotesque around him.  _

_ At first he wonders if it’s one of Loki’s illusions. But it would seem this was real.  _

_ He kneels down on the ground and presses two fingers to his döppelganger’s forehead. It’s been less than a day. But the hollow shell of his vessel is not of this world. He catches glimpses of his life from the tendrils of grace that ebb and flow gently around the body.  _

_ What could be important that Gabriel would risk his own life, to sacrifice himself?  _

_ To not even deploy a spare?  _

_ His fists are clenched at his sides. Someone will pay for this. He will make sure of it.  _

_ \----- _

After yet another fruitless hunt, Sam trudges back into the bunker, covered in mud from head to toe. 

Mary follows him down the stairs, but she’s soaked and shivering as the air conditioning kicks in. 

Jack, on the other hand, has a smudge on his nose. But he’s been coughing into his arm, something that’s niggled at Sam since the events of two months ago. But even though it hasn’t gotten better, it hasn’t gotten worse either, and right now Sam’s main priority is to get Dean back. 

He’s lost too much already. 

“Sammy,” Mary says, before draping a blanket around his shoulders, standing up on her tiptoes to secure it around his neck. “You need to take a hot shower and clean yourself off.” 

Sam shakes his head. “No. I’ve got a lead. I just--” He pauses, a wave of nausea beginning to hit him. 

“You haven’t slept in days,”’ Mary says, her voice more firm. “And this isn’t just about you anymore.” 

Sam nods once, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. 

“Hormones?” Castiel asks as he walks into the bunker, and Sam feels stifled under their attention. 

He grips the chair in front of him, and the chair protests weakly, creaking as his grip tightens. 

“Morning sickness,” Mary says, running her fingers through Sam’s hair. “Now go shower and get this mud off of you and I’ll run you a bath.” Sam leans into her touch, closing his eyes as she continues stroking his hair. She makes a face as dried flecks of dirt rain onto the floor. 

He nods, heading down the hallway to the showers. Following the bath his mother all but picked him up and dumped him in, he goes back to the war room, sitting down at the table and opening his laptop.

Mary appears shortly after, and Sam can just feel disappointment radiating from her. And there’s a part of him that’s so grateful he gets the chance to feel this. To experience his mother’s disappointment. But there’s another spike of irritation. Every second he rests, is another second Michael could be destroying everything. 

Not to mention every time he closes his eyes, he sees Gabriel run through with Michael’s knife and losing the battle to have control of his body again. In all its split-screen glory. His mate and brother--lost in quick succession. 

“You can’t keep doing this Sam,” Mary says, sitting down next to him and resting her forehead on his shoulder. 

Sam responds well to touch and he turns his head to nuzzle her cheek, reaffirming their pack bond. Though her comforting scent does nothing to allay or soothe his growing frustration. 

“What am I supposed to do mom?” He asks, his voice coming out tighter and more strangled than he intended it to. “Every time I close my eyes--I just--I see them.” 

“I know,” Mary says, soothing, pulling his head to rest on her chest as she kisses the top of his head. Cradling him. 

But Sam doesn’t cry. He can’t. He feels empty. 

“You don’t have to keep it,” Mary says after a short while. “If it’s too much--you know you have options right?” 

And Sam knows her faith, he knows how difficult this must be for her to suggest. And he shakes his head. “It’s all I have left of him.” His hand drifts down to his stomach, pressing down on the barely perceptible bump. 

“I know,” Mary says. “But that means you have to take care of yourself. It’s not about you anymore.” 

Sam nods. “I know.” He says. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed,” Mary says, guiding Sam up off of his chair. 

Sam wraps an arm around her shoulder, clinging to her. She tucks him in, and before he can ask for her to stick around she pulls the air mattress out of his closet and begins to set it up. Sam leans up on his elbows and Mary holds up a hand. 

“I’m perfectly capable of setting this up myself. Now you go to sleep,” she says, a note of authority in her voice. 

“I can’t--let you sleep on the floor.” Sam attempts to argue, though he knows such argument is pointless. 

Mary raises an eyebrow. “Since when are you allowed to let me do anything.” As the air mattress slowly inflates, she moves to sit on the bed her hand resting on his knee. “Sammy, I--I missed your first steps. Your first sentence. Your first book. This is more for me than for you, okay?” She gives him a pointed look. 

“Okay mom,” Sam says, grumbling before he pulls the covers back over himself. 

Mary places her hand on his forehead before running her fingers through his hair and as she hums softly, Sam drifts off to sleep. 

\--

Life goes on as usual, but Mary starts actively training the hunters, a stern glance forcing Sam to sit on the sidelines. When he complains about feeling unhelpful, she hands him a fidget spinner and pats his head. 

Sam takes it and spins it angrily before realizing that it actually helps dissipate some of his anxious energy. 

Castiel and Jack are now in charge of searching Sam’s leads for Dean, and everything runs more or less smoothly. 

Weeks pass and their leads get fewer and far between. Their hunts have stalled out--it’s too quiet. Though Sam senses that there’s an uptick in demonic activity. 

Under his mother’s watchful eye, he’s getting sleep, vitamins, and plenty of rest. (Though he refuses to shave his beard. At least he has control over something). 

When Mary, Jack, and Cas leave to hunt down their newest lead, Sam doesn’t go with them. Even to stay in the car. He’d been up all night throwing up, his morning sickness getting progressively worse. He sits in the war room, a blanket around his shoulders as he researches possible morning sickness remedies when he hears a crash outside. 

Arming himself with his pistol, he drops the blanket and sneaks up the stairs to the door. He checks through the peephole and doesn’t see anything, so he slowly opens the door. There’s nothing outside, no evidence of a crash at all. 

His eyebrows draw together and he shakes his head once before he heads back inside, flicking the safety back on. 

Sam goes back down the stairs and heads towards his computer when he feels drowsiness begin to kick in. He stifles a yawn and paws at the computer to close the clamshell before he heads down to his bedroom, he’s asleep before he hits the bed. 

He wakes up hours later, screaming as he feels the dormant mark on his neck begin to throb. Memories of his nightmare come rushing to the surface, it’s the same one he’s had every night since they returned from Apocalypse world. It’s the same loop of thee last few minutes. Michael, thrusting his blade into Gabriel’s chest. Gabriel looking back at Sam briefly before he dies, his eyes flicking to Sam’s belly. 

Over the weeks, it’s morphed, Michael now wears Dean’s face when he kills Gabriel, but the one detail that’s always the same. It’s a memory. The moment they locked eyes before Michael kills Gabriel, and he smiles, truly smiles, love and hope intermixed by a hint of sorrow at what he’ll never experience. And Sam knew at that moment that he would never be alone again. 

His bond broke moments later, a piercing stab of grief charging through his body, threatening to tear his soul in two. He can hear his own scream--but he’s detached from it. Barely aware of Dean dragging him into the portal as it shrinks and he collapses into his mother’s arms, shaking. 

And then he wakes up. But now it’s something different, his bond thrums again--brief but unmistakable. 

Something’s changed. 

\---

Dean’s back and Michael’s seemingly left his body, and for what, Sam doesn’t really know. His mom’s texts weren’t clear. But he’s at the door of the bunker, his heart pounding in his chest as Dean comes in, supported by Mary and Cas. 

As soon as Dean makes it down the stairs, Sam moves forward, hugging him tightly, his face buried in Dean’s shoulder as Dean hugs him back. 

He scents him, his brother’s omega scent soothing him as it always has since the two were boys. It eases his nausea and by the way Dean is scenting him too, reaffirming the pack bond, Sam knows that it’s the same for him. 

He moves out of the hug and cups Dean’s cheek, his own cheeks wet with tears he didn’t care that he’s openly shedding out of joy and relief and the rush of too many hormones charging through his body. 

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “Always knew you were a crybaby,” he says, cupping Sam’s cheek and brushing away a stray tear. “C’mon Sammy I’m fine,” he adds, his voice dropping down an octave to demonstrate that he is, indeed, fine. “Or I will be after you shave this monster off.” He indicates the beard. 

Sam shakes his head, laughing before he pulls Dean into another hug. 

Dean huffs out a laugh as Sam hugs him, and Sam can practically feel the full bodied eye-roll as Dean pats his back. 

“Aw see, it’s impossible to live without me.” He says. 

Sam laughs and pulls back before playfully shoving his brother. 

“Bitch,” Dean says, playfully shoving back. 

“Jerk,” Sam responds, looking anywhere but at Dean. But he can feel Dean’s eyes on him, making sure he’s been taken care of. His eyes settle on Sam’s round middle and he tilts his chin. 

“You getting a beer belly Sammy?” He jokes. “Finally realized life ain’t about salads and protein shakes.” 

And Sam realizes, he’s never really gotten the chance to tell Dean--everything was so convoluted after--. He looks at Mary who responds with her own eyes widening and her hands up in the air. And suddenly everyone else can’t leave the room quickly enough. 

Making excuses, mostly checking on Jack, they all run in opposite directions. Sam can swear that he hears the cartoon  _ whoosh _ effect as they do. 

“Why’d everyone leave?” Dean wonders. He shrugs. “You want a beer Sammy?” He asks, making a beeline to the kitchen. 

Sam follows him, and he can swear he sees a few people scurry out of the kitchen and down the hall leaving it empty as well. 

Sam makes his way over to the island as Dean pulls out two beers, opening them and sliding one over to Sam. 

He looks down at the bottle and then back up at Dean. Wondering how the hell he’s gonna broach the subject. 

“C’mon Sammy, beer’s gettin’ warm,” Dean says as he downs the amber liquid. 

“I uh. Can’t,” Sam says. 

“Why?” Dean asks. “You givin’ up alcohol?” He takes the bottle from Sam. “Or you want a fruity drink? One a those fruity girly ones with the umbrella? Can’t believe you’re gonna make me make you one of those. Well two, don’t wanna make you drink those alone. ‘S embarassing and all,” Dean says, moving to pull out the margarita mix. 

Sam takes a deep breath, looking down as Dean walks back with an armful of margarita ingredients. 

“I can’t drink Dean. I’m three months pregnant.” 

There’s a crash and the drink ingredients and glasses fall to the floor. 

“Sam that’s not funny,” Dean says. 

Sam’s pretty sure he can hear a distant snickering from the hallway indicating otherwise. He rolls his eyes. “Yeah well it’s not a joke.” 

“You can’t be pregnant,” Dean says. As if his decision is final. 

Sam shakes his head. “Yeah well I am. I have an ultrasound scheduled tomorrow if you want to come.” 

Dean’s still standing in the margarita carnage. “And no one was gonna tell me?” 

“When?” Sam asks. “I didn’t find out until--” 

_ Gabriel’s eyes, sad, looking at him with love and compassion in his eyes. _

He pauses, leaning heavily on his hands as he feels a burst of pain stab at his chest, threatening to take down the carefully constructed defenses he’s been putting up. He dismisses the memory but he can’t help the tightness constricting his chest, it’s too late. His breathing becomes heavier and he feels Dean’s hand at his back, supporting him. Always putting him first. 

Sam leans against Dean. “I didn’t know until after we got back,” he says. “And--I didn’t take the test until after you--” 

“Okay Sammy, it’s okay,” Dean says, wrapping his arms around his brother. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He kisses the top of Sam’s head and Sam practically collapses in his arms. 

“Always wanted to be an uncle,” Dean says, laughing as he places a hand on Sam’s belly. “Love the pipsqueak already.” 

“So you’ll come to the ultrasound?” Sam asks. 

Dean huffs. “You’d have to lock me in the panic room to keep me out. An’ even then.” 

There’s a laugh from Sam. 

“It’s his isn’t it?” Dean asks, his voice soft. 

Sam nods. 

There’s a sharp inhale from Dean. “Fuck. Kelly,” he says. “She--after Jack--” He can’t bear to even finish his thought. 

Sam steps back and looks at Dean. “Cas can’t even detect the baby’s grace like he did with Kelly. He thinks Gabe’s grace was so drained, it’s a regular human pregnancy at this point.”

“Yeah but can we take that risk?” Dean asks. 

Sam shakes his head. “Rowena’s doing some research as we speak. She still hasn’t found anything. But we’re gonna keep an eye on it.” 

“Well...shit.” 

“You’re telling me.” 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Mary says, from the doorway. 

“How long you been standin’ there?” Dean growls, turning to look at her. Though his face is serious, his cheeks tinged with pink, as it is whenever he’s caught being anything less than the most manly of men, there’s a softness in his eyes reserved only for Mary that Sam’s so honored to be able to see. 

She folds herself into the boys, and they pull her into their embrace. And even though Sam still feels a gaping hole in his heart, in this moment, he truly believes that things might be okay. 

\---

As they sit in the exam room of the local hospital one town over from Lebanon, Dean paces while occasionally fiddling with the diagrams and models out for doctors to demonstrate anatomical details to their patients. 

Mary sits in the chair next to the bed, reading the issue of People she pilfered from the waiting room, her eyebrows furrowed as she reads about the most recent breakup that happened in the celebrity world. 

Sam’s eyes track Dean from his spot on the exam table, and he can sense Dean’s growing agitation. 

“Dean what are you doing?” He asks as Dean walks over to the counter and picking up one of the models next to the sink. It’s an Alpha Woman’s anatomy. 

“Nice,” Dean says, with a nod, looking at Sam as he points at the lower part. 

Mary rolls her eyes. “Dean,” she chastises. 

Dean immediately puts the model down and looks the other way. It falls apart just as the door opens and the doctor steps into the room. 

He practically flies to Sam’s bedside, whistling nonchalantly. 

The doctor looks between the model and Dean and she laughs before putting it back together easily. 

“Hi,” she says. “I’m Dr. Levinson, and I see you’re about twelve weeks along?” 

Sam nods. “Yeah.” 

“And are you the father?” She asks looking at Dean who immediately holds up his hand.

“No. Uncle,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing, his jaw set in determination. “I’m--big brother. Sammy and I aren’t--nope.” He shakes his head repeatedly. 

The doctor nods once before moving to Sam. “Is there a father?” 

“He passed away,” Sam says, his voice unwavering. 

Dr. Levinson offers him a compassionate smile. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she says. “And is this--your sister?” She asks, indicating Mary. 

“Mother actually,” Mary says. 

The doctor tilts her head. “Wow--you look  _ great _ ,” she says, and Mary laughs in response while Dean and Sam both grimace. 

“Okay! So is this all of Team Baby?” 

Sam nods. “Yep.” 

The doctor nods, and begins going through the rundown of everything they can expect. She talks through boring things, like what Sam can and can’t do over the next few weeks and Sam feels disgruntled as he realizes that Dean’s going to be upholding the enforcement of Mary’s no hunting rule. 

He folds his arms over his chest when the doctor turns to him. “Alright, now that they’re both up to speed, are we ready to hear your baby for the first time?” 

Mary and Dean are both standing next to him, the three of them clasping hands, holding on for dear life. 

Sam nods and she asks him to pull up his shirt. She puts the jelly on his abdomen and begins moving the wand. 

“So here’s your uterus,” she says. 

Dean’s eyes narrow as he tries to make out the unfamiliar terrain. 

“And here’s your baby,” the doctor says, smiling as she places the wand over the lower part of his belly. 

Sam squints and he can see it, a small peanut shaped object. 

She presses a few buttons to take pictures of the ultrasound and then, she presses another button and there’s a small echoey beat. 

“And that’s the heartbeat,” she says. And Sam’s entire world changes. 

There’s an echoey thump that somehow narrows and becomes his entire point of focus. A small sound, but strong. Sure. It’s the creation of life itself. 

  
Ever since Sam was young, he’s learned how to take different lives. How to kill a werewolf, silver bullet, how to kill a vampire, machete and behead it. He’s got a near encyclopedic knowledge of how to kill--how to destroy. Even if they’re evil, he knows how to hunt it down and kill it. 

His hands--his body even, has been used as a tool for decimation. For torture. 

For the first time, as he looks at his baby on the screen--he realizes he’s now creating something. Creating a life. Something to love and cherish until his dying days. A memory of his mate, his soul. 

He watches the tiny image on the screen, a lump forming in his throat. 

“Whoa,” Dean says softly. 

And Sam can’t help but agree. 

\----

They stop by town to do some grocery shopping. The first group of hunters has returned from their various missions, and Dean also needs more margarita mix. For Maggie, or Mary if they want it, he reasons. 

“Like the good gentleman I am,” he brags. 

“I prefer beer,” Mary says. 

Dean holds up his hand. “You don’t need to give up your favorite drink on my behalf.” 

Sam doesn’t point out that the Margarita stuff is solely Dean’s and Dean’s alone. He knows it won’t go over well. So they both humor him as they drive into down. 

He doesn’t follow them into the grocery store. “I need some air,” Sam says, needing a second alone as Dean and Mary both go in. He leans against the car, checking the news on his phone when he feels a tug at his mark again and he looks up, his eyes locking with someone he didn’t think he’d ever see again. 

“Gabriel?” He asks. 

The Gabriel doppelgänger immediately turns into an alley and Sam breaks out into a run to chase after him, heading into the alley and running to the end. He checks behind some of the dumpsters, and there’s no one there. 

With a downturn of his lips, Sam feels a tug at his chest. Could he be going crazy? 


	2. And So It Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam enlists Gabriel's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting my Free Day submission a little late! But here you go :D Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my fault D:  
> Hope you enjoy!

Over the next week Sam watches as Dean begins a downward spiral as the hunters describe the carnage left by Michael. And he slowly stops coming to the briefings, opting to remain in his room and watch slasher movies.

Of course he’s “fine” whenever Sam checks in. Except the one time Sam thought he was getting somewhere. 

“It’s just giving me nightmares,” Dean says as they walk down the hall. 

“What?” Sam asks. 

“I just picture it coming to life and taking over everything.” 

Sam frowns at the candidness of Dean’s statement. He tilts his head if he wonders if Dean’s picked up some emotional honesty for the first time. 

“What is it?” Sam asks. 

Dean rubs his chin. And Sam realizes there’s no emotional honesty programming anywhere in Dean and his concern turns to disappointment. 

“The beard,” Dean fake-whispers. “It’s gotta go.” 

“Dean seriously,” Sam says, an irritated edge in his voice. 

Dean snorts and shakes his head, going into the bathroom. “Seriously I’m fine Sammy now go shave,” he says, winking and clicking his tongue. 

They both know he isn’t. 

-

Even Castiel can tell something’s wrong. But Dean pushes him off every time he checks on him. 

Sam wonders when the two will stop their weird mating dance and just get together already, but he’s given up hope on either of them getting their heads out of their asses and admitting their feelings. 

Still, he tries to at least push them together whenever he can. 

Though with Dean moping around, it’s hard. And finally he hears about a case at a comic book store, and after practically yelling at Mary, he gets her disgruntled approval to present Dean with this case. 

He decides to surprise Dean even further and shaves his beard. After he shaves, he knocks on Dean’s door and lets himself in, seeing Dean laying down on the bed, chomping down on a slice of pizza. Everything is piled around him like a nest, and Sam wonders if Dean’s heat is coming up soon. 

But right now, he figures they should focus on the case. 

\--

The case seems to be exactly what Dean needed, and on their way home, Dean opens up in the car. 

After his admission, Sam feels comfortable telling the story about why he’s always hated Halloween, and the two have never been closer. 

Which is saying something, since they’re practically attached at the hip. 

They stop outside of town to get gas again and Sam feels the tug when he gets out of the car to stretch his long legs. 

He turns around and sees a flash of someone moving around the gas station. He takes a deep breath and begins moving towards the achingly familiar figure. 

Finally, he manages to grab his arm and turn him around, pinning him to the wall. 

And when he sees who it is, he steps back once, unable to process what he’s seeing in front of him. 

“Gabriel?’ He asks the specter of his past. 

The pseudo!Gabriel in front of him rolls his eyes. “Got it in one, well... _ ish.”  _ He leans casually against the wall before pulling a tootsie pop out of his pocket, unwrapping it and sticking the candied confection into his mouth. Sam can’t help but let his eyes drift to his lips, wanting nothing more than to taste him again. But then not!Gabriel keeps talking. “Somehow you’re completely wrong and a hundred percent right kiddo.” He says, raising an eyebrow and    
  
“What--what do you mean?” 

“Not the same Gabriel you know. Well. Knew. That one’s kinda donezo.” Gabriel makes a face, his eyes squinting shut as he sticks his tongue out the side of his face, a callous interpretation of death before he adds insult to injury by crossing his hand in front of his neck, miming his doppelganger’s death. 

Sam feels a cold pit in his chest and he takes a step back shaking his head. “So you’re--Apocalypse World Gabriel?” 

“Whoa hey whoa, I didn’t exactly sign on for that nickname. Name’s just Gabriel. Though, I’ve gone by others--betcha yours didn’t. For example, for the last uh, few centuries or so I’ve gone by--” 

“Loki,” Sam finishes. 

There’s a look of amused surprise on Gabriel’s face and Sam can’t help but feel a warmth in his heart as he’s reminded of his mate. And like that he’s gone. 

“So he did that here too,” Gabriel says. “Weeeelll this has been...not really fun, but uh informative. So uh thanks for that---but I’m gonna go.” 

“No wait!” Sam says, holding up his hand. “Um. We could use your help--if you’re around. We’ve kinda got a problem with Michael--and, maybe you could--” 

There’s a flash of something in his eyes that Sam can’t quite quantify. But it looks so much like his Gabriel he’s knocked back. But then it’s gone and the stranger wearing his mate’s face curls his lips in a cruel sneer. “No can do kiddo. I wasn’t involved in that world, don’t wanna break tradition now. But uh. Good luck, and uh. See ya around.” He winks to Sam before he turns around and snaps, disappearing in a sound of wingflaps. 

“Sammy?” A voice asks from somewhere behind him as he begins to shake. 

“He was here,” Sam says softly. 

“Who was here?” Dean asks. 

“Gabriel.” 

“What?” Dean’s eyebrow raises in disbelief before his expression shifts to concern. 

“Not our Gabriel--” Sam corrects. “I think...” 

“When was the last time you ate?’ Dean asks, taking Sam by the arm and supporting him to the car. 

Irritation surges through him and Sam yanks his arm back. “No dude I’m telling you. He was right there.” He gestures behind him, but wonders briefly if he’s mistaken. 

“Sammy we saw Michael gank him,” Dean says, not without sympathy in his voice. “You felt it. Your bond. He might be able to fake his death but you can’t fake—“ 

Sam remembers. The searing pain as their bond broke, leaving a scar on the side of his neck. A grotesque symbol of something that was beautiful for too brief a time. He looks down. “No. This--this is different.” He insists. 

Dean pulls him into a hug and Sam awkwardly returns it. 

He understands where Dean’s coming from, sure, he’d have questioned it too if the shoe was on the other foot, but he had a  _ conversation _ with this Gabriel. How could he be in the same vessel? Was Gabriel the only archangel with a human true form? Sam huffs out a sigh before shaking his head. 

And then he wonders if he did imagine it. After all, even after getting Dean back, Sam’s sleep has been fraught with the same recurring nightmare. Whenever he closes his eyes he watches Gabriel die and feels the agony of the bond break. The way it shattered his soul, leaving a void. An endless pit of black. 

Moments later, he tightens his arms around Dean, his eyes filling up with tears as he releases a pained cry. And for the first time since the blade sunk into Gabriel’s chest, he weeps. 

Dean’s hand rubs his back as Sam clutches onto him. 

“It’s not fair,” he whispers. “I ca-can’t do this alone. I—I’m not cut out to be a mom, I don’t—I can’t do this without him. I can’t.” Sam continues to babble into Dean’s shoulder, and he can tell it’s killing Dean. He works so hard to be somewhat articulate, after all, he was accepted into Stanford Law and that was dependent on his ability to construct thoughts into coherent words. But this--this entire situation has rendered him nonverbal, to fall prey to panic and doubt when he was once filled with logic and reason. 

Dean presses his palms flat against Sam’s shoulders and pushes him back so they can see eye to eye. 

“Sammy,” he says. “You’re not doing this alone. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Sam nods, looking back at the spot he was sure he saw the ghost of his love. And if he sees a shadow of a wing, he says nothing. He gets into the car and rests a hand over his belly. 

It’s going to be fine. 

He hopes. 

—-

Jack doesn’t get better. His sharp decline leads Sam to realize that they’re dealing with forces beyond all the crap they’ve encountered in the supernatural. 

His first child is going to die without their help, without some form of divine intervention, and it’s all Sam can do to not tear apart every book of dark magic that they have. 

But dark magic like that comes with a price, and it’s a price they can’t afford to pay. Not when he’s carrying a child--not when there’s a being that’s already so dependant on Sam. 

He steps outside the Bunker, leaning against the metal rail as he looks up at the sky. 

There’s a slight swell to his stomach and he slowly runs his fingers over it, feeling a little less lonely than he had in the past. It’s like there’s a part of Gabriel with him. 

Which he supposes is true. 

But right now he needs the double, the other Gabriel. Some archangelly form of grace. It’s their only hope. 

“Man, you think loud,” Gabriel says, appearing in a rush of wingflaps next to him. “And for the record, I’da showed up a lot sooner if you had a white dress and cinnamon bun pigtails.” 

Sam practically jumps out of his own skin, but is instead knocked back onto the ground in his surprise. 

And if Dean asks later, he didn’t shriek. 

“What? Just cause I’m outta my normal world doesn’t mean I can’t tap into the ole praydio station,” Gabriel says, offering a reluctant hand to help Sam up. 

His center of gravity is displaced enough that he needs the boost and Sam takes the proffered hand before jumping up. Though, his face pales when he feels a familiar surge of nausea threaten to take him over. 

“You’re not gonna like, hurl all over me are ya?” Gabriel asks, narrowing his eyes. “Cause, just right now, flat out not into that.” 

Sam glares, opening his mouth to protest. He’s barely gotten a word in edgewise but he wants to throw Gabriel up against the side of the wall and force him to fix Jack. 

“Are you gonna actually let me talk?” Sam finally asks when there’s a lull in Gabriel’s self-conversation. 

Gabriel shrugs. “Don’t really know, you gonna say anything worth me sticking around for?” Gabriel asks, his eyes raking over Sam’s figure, appraisingly before settling on his middle. “Looks like you’re gaining--oh.” He pauses before he has his own realization. “Look. Whatever you might think--”

“You’re not him,” Sam says, irritated. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “I know you’re not. Bobby’s not Bobby--and Charlie’s not Charlie. And everyone I ever loved and lost is here but they’re not really here. But all I know is that--I need your help.” 

“Not exactly a father figure here,” Gabriel says, though, his voice is softer, his eyes (when Sam can bring himself to look into them), hold more wonder than disgust. 

“It’s not about the baby,” Sam says. “I get it--it’s your double’s not yours. You’re not him. You had a different life, and you never met me which, I mean,” he lets out a sardonic laugh. “It’s probably better. But--Jack--he’s, Lucifer--our Lucifer’s--kid.”

“Man someone’s gotta put a boot on the fertile archangels around here,” Gabriel comments, but it’s not as sharp as it would have been, he still seems fascinated by Sam’s midsection. 

Sam rolls his eyes, but it’s the longest he’s been able to talk to Gabriel, so if his pregnancy is somehow causing the archangel to develop some sort of link, then he’ll take it. “He’s dying,” he finally manages, his voice cracking. “And nothing short of archangel grace is gonna fix him.” 

Gabriel’s eyes meet Sam’s and it’s Sam who looks away first. Looking at Gabriel, his body physically hurts. His heart is threatening to shatter into a million pieces, and he wants to bury himself into his room and sleep for a thousand years. And asking this means that Gabriel will be staying with them for a time. 

But it’s the right thing to do. It’s for Jack. And Sam can do this. He can absolutely do this. 

He can try to absolutely do this. 

“What do you want me to do about it?” Gabriel asks, his voice soft. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t lose him. I just--I’ve lost so much already. I can’t lose Jack.” 

Gabriel sighs. “Y’r not gonna leave well enough alone are you?” 

“Do you think your double ever would have mated me if I was the kind who did?” Sam finally manages, his lips quirking up into the barest of smiles. 

“Not a chance kiddo,” Gabriel says, offering Sam a wink. “C’mon, show me the son of Lucifer.” 

He claps a hand on Sam’s back and Sam stiffens before he relaxes into the touch. It’ll get easier. 

He hopes. 


	3. C'était Toi (You Were The One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is reminded of his past, and chooses to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally earn my E rating kiddos (or at least I hope none of you are kiddos lolololo 😬) 
> 
> ANYWAYS an extra special thanks to my wonderful beta [Fox!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxVII/pseuds/FoxVII) for making the words pretty and for tolerating my constant poking. 
> 
> Also pay attention to the new tags! Switching galore!

“If you guys are gonna watch you might as well actually be in the room instead of peeking through the door like the Three Stooges,” Gabriel says, rolling up his sleeves as Sam, Dean, and Castiel watch him through the doorway. 

The three of them shuffle into the medical bay and Dean makes Sam sit on the adjacent stretcher. Sam watches curiously while Dean glares at Gabriel the entire time, his arms folded tightly over his chest. 

Castiel, on the other hand, is in awe. And Sam has rarely seen such tenuous hope from his friend. 

“It’s really you, brother,” Castiel says. 

Gabriel softens, and he’s about to say something when they both realize that--it’s different. They both took drastically different paths and they’re not the same brothers looking for closure. 

Sam supposes even angels can face that dilemma. 

“Ain’t really me,” Gabriel says. “Though it’s good to see you’ve ditched the accent.” 

“I’ve never had an accent,” Castiel responds, his brow furrowed. 

Gabriel beams in return. 

“That’s m’boy,” he says, clasping Castiel on the shoulder. 

“Okay?” Castiel manages, his lips drawing tight as he analyzes Gabriel. 

Sam watches the exchange and he wonders how different the two really are. He tilts his head as he watches Gabriel chant in Enochian, magnifying his grace but targeting into Jack’s very being. And Sam feels his face relax, in fact, the tension eases in his entire body and he begins to feel the familiar tendrils of love begin to snake through him. 

Gabriel notices his fond stare, and blinks once in surprise before turning his back. 

Sam glances away, his eyes beginning to prickle with tears of longing as the scant hope he had vanishes as quickly as it appeared. 

Dean nudges Sam and beckons towards the door and Sam gets up to follow him. 

“No,” Dean says simply once they’re out of sight of the other angels. 

“What?” Sam responds, his eyes narrowing. 

“I know what you’re thinkin’ Sam, but he’s not the same guy,” Dean says. “Ain’t nothin’ that way but pain.”

Sam shakes his head. “It’s nothing like that. We need his help with Jack.” 

Dean’s lips purse. They both know Sam’s lying. 

“Look man. He smells the same, looks the same, but he ain’t the same.” 

Sam nods. “I know...but Dean. For the first time--being around him, I don’t feel nauseous. I feel an appetite. He might not be the same, but what if the baby can sense his grace?” 

And Dean’s entire resolve shatters and he rolls his eyes before wrapping an arm around Sam. “Okay Sammy. If you say it’s for the baby, I’ll back off--let you continue this experiment. But--.” 

“I know,” Sam says. “I won’t let it get too far.” 

Another lie. But before Dean can call him out on it, they’re interrupted by Castiel returning. 

“Jack is awake,” he says, barely disguised joy evident in his expression. 

\----

Turns out Gabriel’s going to have to stay and monitor Jack, making sure a grace transfusion of sorts works. And even though Sam can tell, in an ideal world he’d pop in and out, Gabriel’s grace is not replenishing at the same rate that Jack requires it, keeping him effectively grounded.

Sam is beside himself with joy. 

Dean is not nearly as thrilled, and he makes it apparent when he shoots judgemental glares at Gabriel throughout the entire dinner. Though that may also have been because Gabriel’s eating the last of the pie that Dean was saving in the fridge. 

Sam leans on his elbow at the table, watching Dean flail about angrily, while Castiel attempts to placate him. 

“It’s my pie,” Dean grouses. 

“Yes I am aware, but surely this is an appropriate compensation for saving Jack?” Castiel asks, his hand resting at the nape of Dean’s neck. “Regardless,” he says before leaning forward to whisper something in Dean’s ear. Dean immediately reddens and huffs as he stomps out of the room. 

Sam frowns and watches the exchange, and he would swear that he hears Castiel counting to ten under his breath before he follows Dean into the corridor. 

Gabriel snorts and snaps up an even larger cherry pie. “Man that guy needs to get  _ laid,” _ he says, sticking his fork in for another bite. 

Overwhelmed by a painful surge of nostalgia, Sam excuses himself to go and do the dishes. His sudden departure does not go unnoticed by Gabriel. 

“What was it between you two?” Gabriel asks, hefting himself up onto the counter behind Sam as Sam rinses the plates. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, his eyes narrowing as he focuses on scrubbing one particular area of the saucepan in his hands. 

Gabriel shakes his head. “Kid. I seen a lotta things--but one thing I never saw...the way you look at me. I ain’t him--but--” He hangs his head and huffs and Sam’s reminded of the time he pleaded for his brother’s life in a warehouse, when it was him at the brink of desperation, baring his soul for an entity who’d taken the most important person in his life. And it  _ worked. _

“I did,” Sam says, focusing even more intently on the grime as he scrubs. “I do,” he corrects. 

“Why?”

Sam turns and looks at him, cocking his head. “What?” 

“You heard me. Why?” 

“Uh...I just--I did,” Sam says trailing off. “I mean I didn’t at first...kinda tried to stab him--multiple times.” He trails off, a fond look in his eyes. “But to be fair, you did kill Dean repeatedly and trap me in an everlasting Tuesday loop.” 

Gabriel coughs. 

Sam realizes his mistake. “I mean--He trapped me.” 

“Wasn’t me,” Gabriel says, shaking his head. He snaps the dishes away. 

Sam frowns, staring at the empty sink and he opens up one of the cabinets. The plates sit in their place, sparkling clean. He turns to say something to Gabriel when he’s pushed back against the cabinet, lips meeting his in a hard kiss. 

It’s different, Sam notes immediately as he stiffens. But there’s so much that’s so similar he can’t help but melt into the kiss, his hands lifting to wrap around Gabriel’s shoulders. When he feels his arms around his waist, however, Sam pushes back immediately, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen as he catches his breath. 

“What--?” He asks. 

Gabriel shrugs. “Wanted to see what had the other me all tangled up in you.” 

Sam tilts his head. “And…?” He asks. 

Gabriel steps closer and tugs him down forcefully into another kiss and Sam wants with his whole heart to respond, but when he’s struck with a reminder of his Gabriel he realizes how messed up this is. 

He pushes back and shakes his head, his eyebrows knitting together as he does. He shakes his head in a combination of disbelief and shock, willing the hormones running rampant in his body to quell themselves for now so he can leave the room with a semblance of his dignity intact. 

“I can’t do this,” he says, and Sam doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince himself or Gabriel at this point. But he knows he needs to get back to his room at any rate. 

He turns and heads down the hall, eyes burning as tears sting the corners of them. 

Sam ignores the concerned expression on Mary’s face as he rounds the corner, making it into his room. He lands heavily on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. He finds that the tears that had threatened to fall moments ago are refusing, the sharp pain from moments ago filled with an empty void that almost hurts more. 

He stares at the ceiling as his eyes adjust to the darkness, his face impassive as the numbness drowns his entire body. 

Sam’s phone buzzes next to him and he sees a text from Dean. Mary must have texted him. 

[D] Want me to gank that son of a bitch? 

[S] Wasn’t his fault. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

[D] Fine. >:(

And the use of the emoji is almost enough to make Sam smile. Almost. 

He takes a deep breath and turns over on his side, easing the pressure on his back, his eyes closing slowly as he drifts off to sleep, exhaustion finally carrying him away. 

\----

_ Sam pushed him against the wall as he leaned down to kiss Gabriel, the symptoms of his heat overtaking them both.  _

_ There was a few days until they could cross the boundary into the alternate world, and Sam’s heat had overtaken the both of them as soon as they stepped into the bunker after their mission with Loki.  _

_ The heat had cut through the waning grace warding Gabriel from feeling typical human urges and triggered a rut. Pretty soon they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.  _

_ (Luckily Dean and Castiel were too absorbed in their own mating display to pay any heed to what Sam and Gabriel were doing) _

_ “Fuck Sammich,” Gabe whispered as Sam began to kiss down his neck.  _

_ Sam laughed into his neck, shaking his head.  _

_ “D’ya know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”  _

_ “Ten years?” Sam supplied.  _

_ Gabriel’s eyes widened and he gained some form of clarity to briefly push apart from Sam. “You--ten years ago?”  _

_ Sam laughed and shook his head. “Maybe not when you were killing Dean--but after you brought him back?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Kinda had a crush on that cute janitor we ganked.”  _

_ “Tsk tsk tsk,” Gabriel said, a mischievous smile glinting over his face. “I knew you were flirting with me.”  _

_ “Why didn’t you do anything?” Sam asked.  _

_ Gabriel frowned and cupped his cheek. “I wanted to--so badly. But...I also knew you were like this shiny thing I could never touch. Destined to be my brother’s--” He pauses and Sam’s expression darkened. Gabriel tilted his chin up and kissed him before pressing kisses to Sam’s cheek, his nose, his forehead. “Seeing you alive--Samshine. I’m never gonna let you go.”  _

_ Sam surged forward and kissed him. Desperation filling every bit of him as he finally pushed Gabriel down on the bed, smiling as he began to unbutton his own clothes, needing to feel their bodies against each other.  _

_ There was a glint of something Sam could only identify as a pain in Gabriel’s eyes as he lifted a hand to snap his fingers to presumably divest both of them of their clothing. He recovered quickly and Sam didn’t say anything but instead straddled Gabriel when they were both completely naked, pulling him into a bruising kiss. His fingertips glanced up Gabriel’s sides and he carded his fingers through his hair. He tugged briefly at the strands and Gabriel growled in return. And the next thing Sam knew is that he’d been flipped over by Gabe’s considerable strength. Even without his grace, he was a powerful being, and though Sam was much taller, there was a certain strength to his build that let him throw Sam around.  _

_ They were equals in every sense of the word, and Sam could feel that. And he felt his heart swell as he was finally gifted with the moment he’s yearned for his entire life.  _

_ “Sam,” he whispered, the name leaving Gabriel’s lips like a prayer. He leaned down and kissed Sam’s nose, his cheeks, and his forehead. “My Sam,” he added, awe in his voice.  _

_ Sam smiled and leaned up, rutting his hips desperately against Gabriel, slick trailing down the inside of his thigh.  _

_ Gabriel’s hand drifted down to press against his entrance, a finger brushing over the slick, pressing against the hole before he slowly inserted a finger.  _

_ “Gabriel,” Sam cried out, his hips stuttering as he spread his legs further. His hands drifted down and squeezed Gabriel’s ass, digging his fingers in, grunts escaping his lips as he needed--wanted. Coherent thoughts escaped his brain, and left only want--only need. And most of all, a deep and unabiding love.  _

_ Gabriel smiled. “Yeah Sam, fuck, feel so good. You just need my knot don’t you?” he asked, another finger joining the first one.  _

_ “Yeah fuck me--” Sam groaned, babbling happily as Gabriel took him apart.  _

_ He stretched him out, making sure he was turned on and producing enough slick to ease his way. Gabriel pressed himself against Sam’s opening, slowly pulling his fingers out.  _

_ Sam grunted in displeasure as he felt a moment of emptiness before Gabriel pushed forward, impaling Sam on his cock in one quick thrust.  _

_ He screamed out Gabriel’s name, feeling so unequivocally full, stretched to the limit (and even past). A litany of curses escaped Sam’s lips and then he felt Gabriels’ mouth cover his own.  _

_ “You good?” Gabriel asked between kisses.  _

_ “Fuck--yeah,” Sam said, his breaths deepening as he rolled his hips up, adjusting to Gabe’s size.  _

_ Gabriel laughs and kissed his neck. “You’re made for me, my omega,” he murmured, his hands trailing over Sam’s back and sides. He kissed his neck above the omega gland. “Gonna mark you here,” he promised beginning to move, once he feels Sam loosen and relax around him.  _

_ “Yeah?” Sam asked, his body thrumming with arousal as he matches Gabriel’s thrusts, hips meeting his.  _

_ “You want it? Want my mark?” Gabriel asked, smirk evident in his words. “Gonna show the world whose knot slut you are?” _

_ Sam responded with another moan, orgasm beginning to build in the pit of his stomach, his cock throbbing untouched between them.  _

_ “Wait…” Gabriel squeezed the base of Sam’s cock to forestall the impending orgasm. He pulled out and tapped Sam’s hip. “Turn around, it’ll be easier when I knot.”  _

_ Sam nodded, lost in a haze of pleasure, needing to be filled--to be bred. He turned over, presenting to his alpha, on all fours, his ass slightly raised.  _

_ “You’re perfect...fuck,” Gabriel said, his hand rubbing Sam’s ass before he slaps it, playfully. He rubs it again before smacking it once more.  _

_ Sam groaned, frustration evident in his voice. “You gonna knot me?”  _

_ “Patience moose,” Gabriel responded, leaning forward and kissing the swell of Sam’s ass. _

_ Sam felt the bed dip as Gabriel got on his knees, crawling between Sam’s legs. He massaged Sam’s cheek before slowly pressing forward, his cockhead at Sam’s slick entrance. He pushed in, and Sam practically melted into his body.  _

_ It’s their first time and Gabriel already knew how to play Sam’s body like a violin, leaving him a trembling mess.  _

_ Sam felt the base of Gabriel’s cock expand and there was a burst of pleasure.  _

_ “Come for me,” Gabriel ordered, and Sam did, feeling a sharp piercing pain on his neck as Gabriel bit down, claiming him, filling him with his release. Sam’s cock spilled on the bed underneath them, the fitted sheet and the flat sheet both crumpled from their lovemaking.  _

_ It felt like hours; Like days that they were paused in time, just them, joined together as one. And slowly Gabriel helped Sam lower himself onto the bed, laving his tongue over the healing bite mark.  _

_ “You okay there Sammich?” Gabe asked.  _

_ Sam nodded. “Can’t get enough of this,” he said reaching back and lacing Gabriel’s fingers with his own.  _

_ “That’s your heat talking,” Gabriel said, pressing another tender kiss to the bite.  _

_ Sam shook his head. “Felt like this since you came back--”  _

_ “Really? That drooling pathetic mess?” Gabriel asked, trailing his fingertips over Sam’s hip.  _

_ Sam shook his head and pulled Gabriel’s hand over his stomach. “The fact that he did all that to you? And you survived?” Sam said, wonder in his voice. “Not everyone can just do that. And for eight years?”  _

_ “You did. With my brother, for so much longer. Do you even know how long eight years is for me kiddo?” Gabriel asked.  _

_ Sam turned his head as best as he could with the two tied together. “Gabe,” he said, resting his cheek against Gabriel’s head. Gabriel huffed into his shoulder. “If one person drowns in twenty feet of water and another person drowns in two hundred feet, it doesn’t matter that there was a hundred and eighty more feet of water...it’s still drowning.”  _

_ “What?”  _

_ “I’m just saying. There’s no comparison. It’s horrible...and the fact that we both survived....” Sam trailed off his lips curved up in a soft smile. “And now we have this? Us together?”  _

_ “Yeah, Sammich,” Gabriel said.  _

_ Sam had a feeling that Gabriel was still not entirely convinced, but it was okay. It was a start.  _

_ “Gabe?” Sam asked, a hint of hope and adoration mixed into his voice.  _

_ “Yeah kiddo?” Gabriel asked, his eyes drifting shut.  _

_ “I love you,” Sam said.  _

_ “Love you too,” Gabriel responded.  _

_ \----- _

Sam’s eyes open and he turns over, looking back up at the ceiling before making a decision. He needs to let this Gabriel go eventually, but it doesn’t mean-- 

He sits up, huffing out a breath as he gets up out of bed. Well, more like rolls. He briefly wonders if booty calls can be made with body pillows in tow, and then decides against it. He’s not planning on staying. 

Sam pads down the hall, past Dean’s room, stopping when he hears noises inside. He prays that Dean isn’t alone in there, watching his anime, and pleasuring himself. Nevertheless, he turns the corner to where Gabriel’s staying for the next few days. 

He knocks on the door, waiting for a few seconds as he does his best to ignore Castiel’s halfhearted attempt at sneaking out of Dean’s room (probably at Dean’s request--the drama queen) back to his own quarters. (But there’s a hint of a smile on Sam’s face as he thinks,  _ finally. _ )

Before he accidentally blows Cas’s cover, thankfully Gabriel opens the door and Sam steps inside pulling Gabriel into a kiss, leaving a gobsmacked Castiel outside the door. 

\----

Sam shuts the door behind him and pushes Gabriel up against the wall. He’s not big enough that his way is impeded yet, so he’ll take advantage of it as much as he can. 

“You sure about this buddy?” Gabriel asks, pushing away from Sam. 

Sam nods. “I am,” he says, his eyes darkened with lust as he turns them around and pushes Gabriel down onto the bed. 

Gabriel lands with far more grace than Sam does, and he winks. “So what, big guy, you doing me or me doing you? Gotta say, I like it both ways.” 

“Me first,” Sam says as Gabriel snaps a bottle of lube into his hands. He’s not sure if he wants to give up the part of him he’d only given his own Gabe. Not yet at least. 


End file.
